Sorcerers of the Magic Kingdom
by MagicDreamer0630
Summary: What if Disneyland was REAL? What if your favorite characters, most feared villains, beloved sidekicks, were just a trip away? The villains need to be kept in check, naturally, so Merlin sets up a defense system-the Sorcerers of the Magic Kingdom! Each of the eight Sorcerers is in charge of a different 'land', and the newest has just arrived!
1. The Entrance

WORKING TITLE: Rise of the Dreamers

RATING: K+

SUMMARY: "Once upon a time, there was a Magic Kingdom made of hopes and childhood fantasies. A timeless place where every land was filled with wonder. A place where everyone who entered its gates would be given the gift of the young at heart; the power to wish upon a star, and unlock its magic. Are you ready to wish upon a star? Then it's time to open your heart, and remember—Dreams Come True."

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Inspired by all the magic and all the inspiration that has come from that amazing Imagineer, Walter Elias Disney. The following is a combination of some of my all-time favorite things that have snowballed from that fateful train-ride doodle of a mouse. :)

All elements are (c) their respectful owners; the following is nothing more or less than the workings of a fangirl's imagination. I take absolutely no credit for anything within this fanfiction aside from my own character.

Also, please note that while called 'Magic Kingdom' this story technically takes place in Disneyland

STORY START

_**Everyone that has ever lived has three names.**_

_**The name you are born with.**_

_**The name you are given.**_

_**The name you take.**_

_**The name you are born with is the most vulnerable of all; to know someone's true name is to have absolute power over them.**_

_**The name you are given can be used to control you…**_

…_**Unless you take a name for yourself. This third name hides the other two away, and keeps both protected from harm.**_

_**I took the name Grey. It wasn't exactly intentional, actually—as a matter of fact, I quite hated it for some time. But I digress.**_

_**Lady of the Grey. I suppose it may sound dreary to you, but by now it's grown on me. By now, I've had it so long it seems part of me. Like how some people have curly hair, and others have straight hair.**_

_**I'm getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Let me take you back to the beginning; a sunny afternoon in the middle of a world; a world of wonder and magic…**_

It was an odd feeling, teleportation. For less than half a second, she had ceased to exist. A warmth spread through from the juncture between her eyebrows, flooding through her veins and out her fingers and toes. Upon examination, that warmth seemed to take shape of softly glowing light—a swirl of blues and greens that felt pliant to the touch not unlike half-melted rubber.

Who was she? How did she come to be here? The answers seemed just out of reach, but the girl didn't panic. The warmth was soothing, familiar even. She could vaguely recall sitting on some kind of greyish bench within a white tram that rattled back-and-fourth along its road. There were others on the bench as well, but she couldn't bring names nor faces to mind.

The warmth quite suddenly solidified into familiarity—the late-morning sun beat down upon platinum hair and freckle-strewn pale flesh. The girl tested her joints, absently recognizing the simple jeans, converse, and brown tee she wore. All were big on her, but she couldn't bring herself to mind.

Eyes of a sharp leaf-green focused on her spacious surroundings; the girl was stood upon what looked like an overlarge compass rose in a wide courtyard. To the North, South, East, and West sat four sets of turnstiles; each opened into the courtyard the girl stood in, yet she was unable to see across the other side of them.

Few people milled about—some sat upon benches, but the rest were lined at the turnstiles, entering one at a time. Lamp posts sprinkled about the cobblestone courtyard had speakers attached as well, all crooning the same soft melodic medley of songs that touched on familiarity, yet—like all other answers—were just beyond the girl's comprehension.

Paint-stained converse shuffled over the dirt-free ground, inspecting the compass in more detail. What the girl had first assumed to be some sort of backwards 'G' was, in fact, a swirling cursive 'D', the only décor to the compass' center. Each of the directional arrows lay just beyond the circle itself, but rather than N, S, E, and W, the arrows held initials—MK, EPCOT, AK, and HS respectively.

The girl faced the North and stared at the minty green turnstiles that she had first laid eyes upon in this strange place. Unlike the others, she could just glimpse the other side of the turnstiles, where more cobblestone and what looked like a well-kempt hillside awaited. Assuming this was the direction she was supposed to travel to, her feet carried her North-bound. A smiling face greeted her at the empty turnstile and requested she place a finger on the small glass scanner to her right; once the computer had read her fingerprint the turnstile unlocked and the smiling man wished her a magical day.

A stand of maps caught the girl's eye; she raced to it and snatched one up immediately. _City Hall_ stood out in white font, just through the tunnel and around to the left, if she understood right. Assuming someone there could assist her, she carefully folded the map up and thrust it in her back pocket.

The hillside was, in fact, off-limits. Flowers were carefully arranged to spell out 'Welcome' with the face of some kind of 'toonish mouse serving as the 'O'—another pull of familiarity to the girl. She didn't realize it, but as she strolled hesitantly towards the archway, she began to whistle along to the music crooning from the overhead speakers as her subconscious mind recalled faces parading around to the march and spelling out ten letters…

The sight that awaited her on the other side of the short tunnel made her stop dead in her tracks. Quaint, freshly-painted buildings lined the softly bustling street, a trolley making its way down the middle. The music overhead had changed ever-so-subtly, and there was a cluster of someones in front of a shop dancing along to the jolly beat off to the right. The street was singular, leading past dozens of houses and ice cream parlors and a hat shop dubbed 'The Mad Hatter's' that, for whatever reason, amused the girl greatly. At the very end of the street stood a castle of blue and white, strong and proud as it towered over the realm.

It was none of these that had rendered the girl paralyzed in her place, however; it was all that and more. The very _air_ of the place had floored her with such a distinct feeling of home that it had bid her jaw slack and eyes misty. It was as though every muscle in her body was washed over in soothing massage, relaxing as though coming home to a clean house after a long and stressful day at work.

Perhaps, had she not been utterly floored by the feeling, she would have noticed that her clothes had changed as well. Gone were the jeans and the t-shirt and the converse, replaced with grays, blacks, and whites. The shirt was white, a high collar and sleeves that poofed out wide before gathering just at the elbow. A black bow tied below the collar served as a 'tie', silver cuffs clasped about either wrist.

Near-ankle in length, the skirt hung loose with a light flare towards the bottom, gray in color. A pristine white apron seemed attached to the skirt at the waistband, the longest point reaching her knees, with a pocket about the same size as the back pocket of a pair of jeans. The only décor the apron held was on the pocket itself; a silver crescent moon and a gold star were stitched on side-by-side.

It was the footwear, however, that caused the girl to actually look down and observe her new attire; infinitely more support than any cloth shoes logically ought to have held, the boots were ankle-high and made almost entirely out of leather. The soles were naught more than cowhide—so acutely molded to the bottom of her feet that it felt more like she were barefoot. The softer, suede-like tops of the shoes were a charcoal-brown in color, lacing up to the ankle with a light fold-over remaining.

_Curiouser and curiouser indeed,_ the girl thought, though were the quote originated she found she had no idea. Pulling her full platinum hair back out of the way, the girl resolved to get her answers from City Hall. She had just made her way over when a low whistle made her turn back towards the entrance.

A train station sat tall and proud between the two tunnels; the whistle had come from the train itself. The overhead music went interrupted as a deep booming voice called out, "Your attention please: the Disneyland LTD., now leaving for a grand circle tour of the Magic Kingdom. BOOOOOAAAAARRRRDDDDD!" Without further delay, the train chugged off to the East, past towering trees and out of sight.

She must have stood there longer than she realized, however, for the girl was shocked out of her thoughts by a rather stern voice, "Do stand up straight, young lady, you are not a gorilla."

The voice belonged to a woman; tall of stature and proper of attire. Her brown hair was back in an impeccable bun, dress covered by a neat black coat and flowery red hat perched atop her head. One gloved hand clutched a parrot-headed umbrella, the other a large carpetbag.

Stupefied by the stranger, the yet-nameless girl stood straight and tall as the yet-nameless woman surveyed her up and down. The brunette nodded sharply once, "You'll do; spit-spot!" The woman made it four powerful strides before realizing the girl was still standing there. A turn over her shoulder, "You _are_ to be my pupil?"

"Am I?" It would certainly make sense, the girl mused—why she had come here at all. Recognition seemed to have dawned on the woman, however, for she returned to the girl's side and looked her over again. "Do you have a name?"

"I—" No. She didn't. It hadn't mattered to her before, as she hadn't been conversing with anyone, nor had she felt the need to think on such trivial matters. But upon thinking, the girl realized the gravity of just what she _didn't_ know—about herself, about this place, about how she had come to be here.

The woman had either realized this beforehand, or was unaware of the girl's current plight. "Very well; I suppose a trip to City Hall is in order. Come along."

City Hall was a proud building, quaintly painted in pastel yellow with red and brown bricks abound. The building itself was three stories, but a small tower sat in the very middle, leading from the third floor up to what may have been a bell tower. The plaque just above the doors was blue in color, displaying in gold 'Main Street City Hall'.

The inside was quaint, simply furnished in a long wooden desk and several oil lamps. Paintings and photos littered the wallpapered walls, the carpet plush and floral in design. There were four people standing on the other side of the desk: two were conversing to each other about something that looked like it might have once been an antique blue-and-white vase, a third was on the phone with someone, and the fourth was beaming at the unnamed pair.

She was an elderly woman, hair that might once have been blonde was now gray and pulled into a fishtail braid. She wore the uniform as the other three; white button-up, red plaid vest, black trousers, white nametag. According to said nametag, the woman was 'EMMA'—no last name was given, however.

Emma smiled kindly at the pair, "Good morning, Mary Poppins. Is this?"

"Indeed. Though there seems to be a bit of a mixup, Emma. Would you be a dear?"

"Naturally. It is my job, as you know."

All this passed straight over the girl's head. She had a name for the other woman at last—Mary Poppins. Like so many other things about this strange place, it radiated familiarity that was too hard to ignore. Before she could truly muse on it, however, she was led away by Emma into a back room.

It looked to be some kind of office; a desk sat along the far wall with a high-backed chair, two smaller chairs faced the desk from the other side. A tall, narrow window sat to the left of the door and looked out onto the street below. Emma took the tall chair and gestured for the girl to sit.

"Do you know why you are here?"

The girl shook her head.

"Do you know who you are?"

Another shake of the head.

"Do you know how you came to be here?"

Finally—something she could answer! "I felt…warm…like the perfect temperature bath. Then suddenly I was out there beyond the turnstiles."

"Teleportation," Emma clarified. "Something triggered your most fundamental powers and you were brought here by those magics."

"So then where am I from?" The girl didn't mean to sound so touchy; she was just trying to understand her situation. Emma didn't seem to mind, standing to pace about the office, "Another place; another time. Where we are from doesn't matter as much as where we are going, in this place. You have a unique gift, young lady, and with Mary Poppins' help, you can do great things with that gift. It is because of that gift that you were chosen."

"Chosen for what?" She felt she really ought to have realized this sooner—ought to have known the whole time. "To be a Sorcerer, my dear. You are our Sorcerer of Imagination; you are the Lady of the Grey.


	2. Main Street USA

_**A Kingdom full of endless dreams for every girl and boy**_

_**Wondrous lands of make-believe will fill your heart with joy**_

_**A castle leads the entrance way to seven lands and more**_

_**Step inside our storybook; imagine what's in store…**_

_**It's all pure magic wrapped up in pixie dust (in pixie dust)**_

_**Welcome to a place where dreams come true**_

_**A timeless journey through lands of fantasy**_

_**Where only a wish**_

_**Creates things like this to appear**_

_**The most magical place on earth is here…**_

Fog rolled gently along the once-bustling streets, globed lamps shining through appeared to float on their own, lining either side of the street. Just outside the Emporium, the singular clock of the land struck midnight.

All seemed at peace, in this town-out-of-time. The park was closed for the day, the residents all snuggled up in their beds asleep. It seemed as though not even the wind was willing to disturb the hazy calm about Main Street…

Then, suddenly, a door banged open. Two indistinguishable figures; one tall and skinny, the other short and fat, came lumbering out of the alcove by the bank. They appeared to hold something between the two of them. One voice shushed the other as the tall one closed the door just as obnoxiously.

Shuffling of feet and the unmistakable jingle of coins could be heard, echoing off the brickwork and stonework alike. A baritone voice muttered something, but a tenor shushed the former again. This odd shuffle-and-jingle pair weren't the only ones out and about, however, and the only warning this third party gave was nothing more than a light gust of wind and a dull _thunk_ as they landed in a crouch before them.

The figure was unmistakably female—either young or short, it was hard to tell. She wore the traditional Main Street-styled uniform—poufy-sleeved shirt, long skirt, apron. Full, lightly waved hair settled about the female's shoulders.

She said naught a word as she stood tall and rigid before them, hands on her hips. The two men stopped short, still carrying some kind of box between them, and for a while the three seemed to partake in a bizarre staring contest.

The third party moved first—stance shifted minimally, as though attempting to view the other two at a different angle, "Don't suppose you'd be willing to come quietly? See, you're in my territory, and it's kinda my job to keep the peace. And since you're stealing, I have to stop you."

"Oi, Jasper, I think this' that new Sorcerer," whispered the tenor. The baritone let out a single, barking laugh, "This pipsqueak? You're joking, Horace. She's what, twelve?"

"Fourteen," interrupted the girl stubbornly. "And that's any better?"

"As a matter of fact, it is," the girl's hands began to glow cerulean blue. She brought them together, joined at the wrist and fingers splayed towards the two. Neither of the men seemed to have realized the gentle breeze that continued to swirl the fog about until they could see the girl's face.

"I am Grey, the Keeper of Main Street, Sorcerer of Imagination, and you are acting against the good of the Kingdom. This is your last chance; come quietly, or I will be forced to use drastic measures."

Pale, freckled face was set in steely determination as 'Grey' stared them down. The men, revealed as Jasper and Horace Badun, seemed less than intimidated by her harshly glaring green eyes. "You can't do nuthin, girly," Jasper cackled, clearly confident. Grey's eyebrows raised, tone light, though the intensity of her glare remained, "Very well, you have been warned."

With no further ado, two blobs of a jelly-like blue substance shot out from the juncture of her joined palms, smacking each of the henchmen directly over their eyes. In shock, the two dropped the box, hands flying to their faces in an attempt to rid themselves of the odd globs of blue.

Jasper recovered first, fists balling as he started towards the Sorcerer, "Why you—"

"That will be _quite enough_ of that, thank you."

The sudden appearance of a fourth being on the once-silent street corner was enough to render all three of the disruptors silent again. Jasper immediately straightened, not meeting the newcomer's gaze as he mumbled out a "yes'm."

Mary Poppins was just as stoic as always; she took a single sweeping glance over the situation before fixing her gaze on the brothers, "I believe you've dropped something, sirs." The two men promptly tripped over themselves, claiming they'd found it, that they were just on their way to return it to the bank, that it would be safe there, ma'am, yes it would.

It wasn't until the two were gone that Mary Poppins fixed her gaze on her charge. She said nothing, and Grey sighed. "I know. You took me in to help me. I shouldn't have gone off alone, especially at this time of night." Mary Poppins' eyebrow raised marginally, but she still said nothing. Grey continued, "At my level, I'm not ready to face more than one opponent at a time, and until I learn how to use my defense as offence, I put the order of Main Street on the line by my vulnerability. I was chosen for this because of my talent, but I cannot let that talent get to my head."

Mary Poppins smiled kindly, gently leading her pupil back to the house, "I couldn't have said it better myself. Though you did leave out one key part." Curious, Grey stopped at the foot of the porch stairs, watching her mentor. "You might be getting ahead of yourself, but you are also taking your job seriously, and that is worth commending." The two shared a serene smile before Mary Poppins jerked her head lightly towards the door, "Now, back to bed, spit-spot! You have a big day tomorrow."

CHAPTER ONE – Main Street USA

_Splck! Splck! Splck!_

"Again."

_Splck! Splck! Splck!_

"Again."

_Splck! Splck! Splck!_

"Again." I dropped my hands to my sides, ignoring the new targets, and felt my whole body sag as I stared at my supposed tutor, "Archimedes, I've been at this for _hours_. You push me much more and I'm never going to replenish my manna!"

The owl immediately ruffled his feathers, tutting his usual "what-who-what" nonsense. I did my best to ignore the dull pressure of his talons on my head as, despite his protests, I flopped tiredly against the nearest solid surface. "How is your manna ever going to grow if you don't let it?"

"Your method is illogical. You make me hit targets that _never_ change and push me way too far no matter what!" I paused only long enough to gently pull him out of my hair, setting the ruffled bird beside me on the rail, "It's like picking at a scab; the more layers you peel, the tougher the next one is, sure, but the wound will never truly heal that way, and it _always_ leaves a scar. I just don't want to lose it, you know?"

The owl sighed, resigned, and looked over his shoulder towards Refreshment Corner, "Very well, I suppose we'll do it _his_ way. But I'm warning you, missy, that old fruitloop is more than King Arthur could handle!"

"That's not the way Wart tells it," I gave a tired chuckle and allowed Archimedes to perch on my shoulder as I forced myself on my feet and towards where I knew Merlin waited.

~u~

Main Street USA. I was still fuzzy on a lot of the details, but the way I understood it, I'd been summoned here from _somewhere_ to help protect a kingdom—a kingdom that served as a Theme Park, of all things. Disney World was created by The King, The Creator—I still didn't know his name, as most people around here only called him one of those titles. It started as a theme park, but over the years it's become home to princesses and witches, mice and ducks, heroes and villains. It became too much for the caretakers to handle—villains are villains, after all—so they turned to Merlin the Wizard.

Merlin searched the entire universe for unique potential magics, and created the Sorcerers Society. Now, each of these Sorcerers are charged with keeping the peace of one specific 'land'—I had yet to see any of the others, but whenever I bring it up, Merlin reassures me that 'they're out there, somewhere.'

If I can ever get my manna to par, Mary Poppins agreed to give me free reign of the entire park. So far, I've barely been able to see all of Main Street, though—just how big _are_ these 'territories,' anyway?

~u~

We found Merlin just past Refreshment Corner, watching as Mad Hatter, The Queen of Hearts, Alice Liddell, and Peter Pan played musical chairs in the courtyard. It was currently only down to Alice and Peter, with a single chair in the middle. Other onlookers were clapping in time to the song—Whistle While you Work, Archimedes had explained—and cheered the two kids on.

For a timeless wizard, Merlin never seemed to understand the difference between 'casual' and 'eye-catching'. He wore a Goofy hat over his short white hair, a bright orange Hawaiian shirt, denim-blue shorts, tall white socks, and bright red tennis shoes. The whole ensemble was tied off with a pair of angular black sunglasses and what looked like it might have, at one point, been a pin-trading lanyard tangled hopelessly into his overlong beard. He sat alone at one of the spindly-legged tables outside Main Street Bakery, stirring sugar into his tea.

"Seen sense, have you, Archimedes?" The wizard asked calmly, not looking up. "What-what?" The owl was ruffled enough by that to dig his talons into my shoulder, so I pried him off and sat across from Merlin, "I think we can spare him the _I told you so_, but I'm not sure I can take his method much longer."

With Merlin being an all-knowing wizard, I never knew whether or not to explain myself to him. He seemed to understand regardless, however, for he pushed the fresh cup of tea across the table towards me, "Drink up, dear; Mary Poppins' request. The tonic should help replenish your manna enough to start your training."

"Start? I thought I'd already started."

"_That_, Grey, was a lesson of what can happen when you overwork yourself. Mary told me about the brothers last night, so we'll need you in top form from now on."

"Yessir." The tea was good—apple raspberry, of all combinations—and I drank it quickly, immediately feeling more energized. From the depths of his beard, Merlin produced what looked like a pack of trading cards, "You'll practice your true power when you can, but no more of this target nonsense."

"How am I supposed to practice, then?"

Sighing, Merlin pulled off the sunglasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. When he replaced them, they had somehow turned back into his usual circular spectacles, "What is your power, Grey?"

"Essentially, Imagination. Paint and Thinner."

"Look around. What do you notice about this place, dear?"

I looked—really, truly looked. People of all shapes and sizes milled about, shuffling in and out of the main entrance tunnels just beyond the train station. Some gawked at stores, others hurried along with nothing more than a curious glance towards Mrs. Banks and her Sisters Suffocate or the Dapper Dans farther down.

The buildings were all classy, two-story, turn-of-the-century styled architecture, tall and proud. Green railing lined all the gardens, and there were trash cans every 25 or so paces.

And then I realized what Merlin had been trying to get me to see. Most of Main Street was 'toon—that is, created by the very things I held power over. The color was too vibrant for these things _not_ to be. What wasn't 'toon around here was metal—structural things like the trolley tracks, building supports, these things were obviously metal, but there wasn't much else visible. "It's all 'toon…isn't it?"

"Find something small—it could be as simple as a tooth brush. Thin it out, then paint it back. Eventually you'll be able to work with things as big as buildings, but remember you have to be able to _see_ it. This isn't just point-and-shoot—I think you know what happens when you do that."

I nodded—globs of paint and globs of thinner that were hard to aim and harder to control. It was a lucky fluke that what I managed to do last night worked at all. "Can I try?" At his nod, I looked down at my cup and tried to concentrate. I just needed it to disappear. No problem.

Hand hovering over the rim, I took a deep breath and visualized the Thinner streaming steadily from its juncture. As always whenever I called upon the slimy green substance, my veins itched and my fingers felt cold, but true to its charge the liquid drizzled from the inside of my wrist, just between the radius and ulna. I watched in sort of detached fascination as the green ate up the white of the cup, erasing it completely in its steady drizzle downwards.

Task done, I immediately scratched at my wrist in attempt to soothe the itch. Merlin watched with a curious tilt of his head but said nothing. "I don't like using Thinner," I explained lamely, "It makes me itch like crazy."

"With good reason," Archimedes nodded in his usual haughty way, "You're a 'toon with Thinner in your veins. It's a destructive substance and should only be used in emergencies."

"But you have paint as well, which is a very unique balance. So long as they are inside you, they cancel each other out, and so there is no harm."

"That's why you call me Grey, isn't it? Because I have both." It suddenly made sense. 'Grey' was the only name I'd known, and no one had bothered to explain _why_. It was an odd sort of name, but I supposed it fit me. My power wasn't specifically creation, nor was it destruction—it was the gray in between.

I hadn't realized Merlin had continued talking until he began to open the previously-forgotten pack of cards. "That, my dear, is only the beginning. There is more to being a Sorcerer than just your specific, given powers. You can gain powers from those you help, in the form of these cards here."

I took the cards gently, examining first the back of them. The crest was one I'd seen before; a circle with a tower in the middle. On the left of the tower, a capital 'M'; the right, a capital 'K'. The flag of the tower spiraled around to create an ornate capital 'S', and several stars littered the rest of the space. Above the crest held the word 'Sorcerers' while below held 'of the Magic Kingdom'.

As I turned them over, Merlin continued, "Each card is good for one spell, but in order to use them the cards must be activated by the person that card represents."

I looked the cards over with a light frown, "But Merlin, I don't recognize any of these people."

"As you rightly shouldn't. You must travel to the other lands and seek them out. Once all five of your cards are activated, come back here and I'll give you more."

"But I thought I'm supposed to stay here in Main Street?"

"You can't rightly protect your territory until you have the abilities to do so, can you? Luckily for you, Main Street is the least populated with villains, so Mary Poppins and I can watch over it for you while you are gone." My gaze fell again to the cards of curious names. They all sounded like spells, but the artwork was…curious. I suddenly realized that at the back of the stack was a noticeably smaller card. This sixth card was golden in color, holding an intricate key with the Sorcerer's Crest as its handle. The back was blank—completely void of any color or design or anything. It was like it wasn't there at all. "What's this?"

"_That_ is your Key Card. For now, it won't do anything, but if the time comes for you to enter a portal, that card will activate it."

"When will I enter a portal?"

"When the time comes. Now, off you go; don't forget to pick up a map on your way. They are quite useful things, you know!"

Well, if that wasn't a dismissal, I don't know what was. I almost doubted I was ready for it—maybe I ought to have stuck with Archamedes more? But if Merlin the Wizard thought I was ready to leave Main Street, then who was I to argue? So, snagging a park map from one of the entrance tunnels, I took one final stop home to find it void of my mentor. She had told me from the beginning that, should the wind change, she might not be there. There wasn't much synonymous to 'changing winds' than my finally seeing the rest of the park, but I wrote her a note regardless and headed on my way.

I stopped at the Central Hub and looked back. Main Street was just as tall and vibrant as always, almost encouragingly so. My gaze was drawn almost immediately to the statue in the center—the Partners Statue. Recreated in bronze were the two closest things Magic Kingdom has ever had to Kings—The Creator himself, pointing towards the horizon with all the confidance and happiness of a man who knows what he's doing in life. Holding his hand, a small, two-foot mouse in gloves, shorts, and shoes, looking up at The Creator with all the admiration a boy could have for his father. I wormed through the bustling crowd of guests closer, reading the inscription at the base of the statue. _We believe in our idea: a family park where parents and children could have fun – together._

As I passed around the statue to the left, I couldn't help but wonder: was he happy with what his park had become?


End file.
